


We Didn't Start the Fire

by Trombonesonmars



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Defeated Alternian Empire, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Parents & Children, technologically regressed trolls, technologically superior humans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:25:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trombonesonmars/pseuds/Trombonesonmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been twenty years since the Alternian Empress was killed and her vast fleet decimated by the forces of Earth. All that remains of the trolls' civilization is the distant homeworld of Alternia, which is under blockade by a human peace-time "maintenance force."</p>
<p>Cut off from the space-based economy it relied on for so long, Alternia is now populated only by those adolescents who had not yet left to join the fleet before its collapse, a few jadeblooded adults, and those hatched in the post-imperial world. With its hierarchy uprooted, the young trolls of the world have to provide for their own necessities, so while the hemospectrum still clings to the Alternian cultural consciousness, it is up to each troll--highblood and lowblood alike--to ally themselves with a cluster and look out for each other's well-being.</p>
<p>Karkat Vantas, however, was hatched in the post-Imperial era as neither high nor low. As a mutant that is still seen as an ill omen, he lives a solitary existence, only contacting his few close friends on the remnants of whatever technology he can find. That is, until two of the very creatures that wrecked his species show up in his territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Didn't Start the Fire

Karkat’s hive was hidden inside a hill set into the bank of a fast-flowing river. Most nights, its rapids left a near-permanent, misty spray that masked the entrance, which hid his lusus when it went out to hunt for fish, eels, and riverfly larvae (nasty little creatures with barbs half their body length, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.)

Normally there was a mist. Normally Karkat’s lusus could hunt safely undetected. Normally Karkat stayed hermitted away in his hive full of novels, telegraphological transmittoceiver, and aeroacoustic transducer because… Mostly because he was cullbait and the world sucked and would eat him alive like the stunted, bottom-feeding mutant he was.

But in Karkat’s seventh sweep the river was low—the rapids slowed to a placid crawl as they meandered along their usual course, leaving the riverbank clear and dry. So there was not much in the way of food, even near the end of second fall, when his pantry should have been stocked to the brim. But whatever, he could supplement what he had saved and preserved with his pilfered supply of suspicious grubsauce. And suspicious it was—the expiration dates on those were at best a couple of sweeps before he emerged from the ruins of the brooding caverns.

Boring menu aside, Karkat didn’t mind his skin and bones “physique.” It wasn’t like there was anyone around to see his protruding ribs or nearly-concave chest. The most interaction he had with other trolls involved type- or voice-based communication from the safety of his lamp-lit living block.

Stockpiling food took up most of his time that fall, but most dawns he managed to work in some time communicating with his friends—such as they were—over telegraph or radio, although he mostly reserved using his dying old radio to talk to Terezi, who hadn’t quite gotten the hang of reading her tiny-lettered type reel since her incident. After a particularly dismal night of trying to get Crabdad to SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET TO HUNTING that ended up barely netting the two of them enough food for the night, let alone extra to store, Karkat took an hour before dawn to catch up with his one diurnal friend on the transmittoceiver to take his mind off of things.

\-- causticGlare [CG] is mid-transmission with gailyAccessorized [GA] –-

 

CG: AND THAT IS WHY YOU SHOULD QUIT TRYING TO “MAKE IT WORK” WITH THAT SERKET GIRL.

GA: Really Karkat I Realize That She Has Done Some Unsavory Things

GA: Oh I Hear That You Are Tapping Something Out Through The Line

CG: UNSAVORY? UNSAVORY IS THE TASTE OF RANCID FLESH FROM DECAYING WRITHING SLIME BEASTS THAT BEACHED ON THE BANK TWO NIGHTS AGO.

CG: SERKET IS THE PUTRID SCENT WAFTING FROM CARNIVOROUS PLANTS WARNING TROLLS THEY ARE ABOUT TO GET MURDERED.

CG: SHIT I SOUNDED LIKE TEREZI THERE.

GA: Yes You Did It Was Amusing

GA: However I Seem To Have Lost Track Of Your Metaphor Somewhere Around When I Started Gagging At The Mention Of Decaying Flesh

GA: I Have Quite Enough Of That With The Daywalkers Thank You

GA: I See That You Are Making References Based On Fauna That Are Sometimes Known As Eels

CG: WELL PARDON ME *MISS MANNERS* YES I MEANT EELS.

CG: WHY WOULD YOU EVEN CARE, YOU PROBABLY DON’T KNOW AN “EEL” FROM A CHOLERBEAR.

GA: I Am Looking Them Up As We Speak

GA: What Body Of Water Do You Live Near This Guide Specifies That There Are Different Species In Different Biomes

CG: FUCK THAT LINE OF QUESTIONING ENTIRELY. WHY WOULD I TELL YOU WHICH RIVER I LIVE BY? IT IS COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT TO YOU.

GA: Aha

CG: OH GOD DAMN IT.

GA: Do Seadwellers Live There

CG: …

CG: WHAT THE EVER BLITHERING FUCK KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT, SINCE WHEN DOES RIVER TRANSLATE TO OCEAN? THAT IS WHAT THE SEA IS, BY THE WAY.

CG: OH WAIT, I FORGOT. YOU LIVE IN THE FUCKING HELL DESERT WITH THE OTHER JADEBLOODS OF COURSE YOU DON’T KNOW BASIC GEOGRAPHICAL DISTINCTIONS OTHER THAN *SAND* AND *ROCKS* OR WHATEVER IT IS YOU LOOK AT TO SOOTHE THE BOREDOM OF EXISTENCE IN THE DRY WASTES OF THE “MOTHERLAND.”

GA: As They Say Do Not Knock It Until You Have Tried It

GA: Are You At The Very Least A Mertroll

CG: LET ME REITERATE:

CG:  “ …”

CG:  I WAS NOT UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT THOSE WERE A THING OUTSIDE OF YOUR SHITTY NOVELS.

CG: YOU’RE PAUSING SIGNIFICANTLY AREN’T YOU?

CG: CAN YOU STOP INSERTING ME INTO YOUR PERVERSE, OBJECTIFYING PARANORMAL SCHLOCK MASQUERADING AS “ORIGINAL FICTION?”

GA: I Believe That Is More Subjective Taste Than Fact

CG: HOW ABOUT “NO.” MERTROLLS ARE NOT REAL, *SEA* DWELLERS ARE AS FEW AND FAR BETWEEN AS TO BE BARELY REAL THEMSELVES, AND YOUR TASTE IN LITERATURE IS EQUALLY LAUGHABLE IN AN *OBJECTIVE* SENSE.

GA: Half Of The Things I Have Read Were First Recommended To Me By You Who Is Now Being More Than Normally Defensive I See

CG: STOP TRYING TO FISH FOR MY HIVE’S LOCATION THEN, IF YOU’VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY ATTITUDE.

CG: THIS STALKERY SHIT IS CREEPY AS FUCK.

GA: Oh

CG: HELL, I DIDN’T MEAN TO IMPLY THAT STALKING WAS *LITERALLY* WHAT YOU WERE DOING.

CG: WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE SO MUCH ABOUT WHERE A SCUM BREATHER LIKE ME LIVES ANYWAY?

GA: Perhaps I Want To Get Out Of The Desert And Experience New Things

GA: If I Happen To Stumble Upon Your Doorstep On My Journeys I Would Simply Like To Recognize It Is All

CG: MARYAM.

CG: STOP THAT.

GA: Stop What

CG: YOU ARE ABOUT AS SNEAKY AS EQUIUS DROPPING HINTS TO GAMZEE ASKING TO BE RAVAGED AND PUT IN HIS PLACE.

GA: Oh

CG: IF THAT WAS THE “OH” OF SOMEONE BEING LIKENED TO EQUIUS AND THEN FALLING SHORT IN TERMS OF DIGNITY THEN THAT IS THE CORRECT REACTION.

GA: But I Really Don’t Think That Equius Is Trying To Be Covert

GA: Although I Had Pegged His Intentions As More Of A Peculiar Courtship For His Flushed Quadrant Not A Desire For A Caliginous Savaging Per Se

CG: MARYAM. I TYPED “RAVAGED” NOT “SAVAGED.”

CG: AS IN “ROGER ALPHA VIXEN ALPHA GEORGE ECHO DELTA”

GA: Oh Dear I Do Believe That I Need To Brush Up On My Spam

CG: FOR SUFFERING’S SAKE IT’S CALLED “HAM” NOT SPAM.

GA: Of Course I Knew That Wait What Is Ham Supposed To Mean Anyway

CG: IT IS THAT ALPHABET I JUST USED, EVEN THOUGH NORMALLY IT’S ONLY USED FOR RADIO BECAUSE TELEGRAPHS USE LETTERS *QUITE CLEARLY*

GA: Well Fine But Other Than That

CG: FUCK IF I KNOW. DO I LOOK LIKE AN ENCYCLOPEDIA TO YOU? IT’S JUST A WORD. THREE LETTERS IN A RANDOM COMBINATION.

GA: I Would Not Know

GA: To Be Fair I Don’t Think Gamzee Has Noticed The Advances Equius Has Been Making

CG: MARYAM, YOU ARE TO A SLEDGEHAMMER AS EQUIUS IS TO A DETAIL CHISEL IN TERMS OF FINESSE IN THE ARENA OF INAPPROPRIATE PROPOSITIONS.

CG: AND FURTHERMORE

CG: I

CG: AM NOT

CG: GAMZEE.

CG: RARELY HAS SUCH AN INACCURATE COMPARISON BEEN MADE.

CG: HERE I THOUGHT THAT YOU DID NOT THINK THAT I WAS A BLITHERING IDIOT.  SHOWS WHAT I KNOW.

GA: Oh Dear That Was Not What I Meant At All Karkat I Just

GA: I Just Want To Know More About You As I Value Your Company Immensely

CG: YOU *WANT* TO GATHER CLUES UNTIL YOU FIND OUT MY LOCATION, STALK ME DOWN, AND FORCE YOUR WAY IN MY HIVE.

GA: Well Anything Sounds Bad When You Put It Like That

CG: ARGHHH!

GA: Is It So Wrong To Want To See My Friend Face To Face

CG: NO. THIS IS WHERE THIS DISCUSSION STOPS. YOU KNOW I HAVE NEVER REVEALED MY LOCATION. TO ANY OF YOU.

CG: THERE IS A REASON OUR CIVILIZATION COLLAPSED.

GA: Karkat Listen To Yourself

CG: AND INTERPERSONAL CONTACT IS THAT REASON. “FACE-TO-FACE” IS JUST AN ARM-LENGTH AWAY FROM CLAW-TO-CLAW CONFLICT.

CG: AND THAT IS BECAUSE IT IS ETCHED INTO OUR SOULS TO *STAB* EACHOTHER IN THE BACK AS WELL AS THE FRONT AND ALL OTHER DIRECTIONS.

GA: I Would Never Stab You In The Back

GA: That Is A Hurtful Insinuation

CG: IT’S NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU KNOW IT.

GA: Then What Is It Like Karkat

CG: IT IS A POLICY, NOT PERSONAL.

GA: Karkat Vantas

GA: You Are Being A Paranoid Wiggler And Are The Only Person I Know Who Needs To Get Out Of Their Hive More Than I Do

CG: YOUR INSIGHTFUL ARGUMENT IS TRULY ENDEARING AND EFFECTIVE IN SWAYING MY STANCE. OH WAIT, NO IT’S NOT, BECAUSE I HAVE GOTTEN THIS FAR WITH ALL MY LIMBS INTACT AND I’M NOT ABOUT TO REVISE MY STANCE ON THE MATTER TO SATISFY YOUR CURIOSITY!

GA: If You Are So Convinced That Contact With Others Is Going To Endanger You

CG: I AM.

GA: Shut Up And Let Me Type

GA: If You Are So Convinced Of This Fact Then Why Do You Obsess Over Your Troll Harlequin Novels That Are Based On Intimate Contact

CG: THAT’S DIFFERENT AND YOU KNOW IT.

GA: For Fucks Sake How Do You Think Slurry Combines

CG: IN YOUR GRAND-LUSUS’ RAINBOW-SPLATTERED INTESTINES.

GA: Karkat If You Insist On Having A Competition Wherein We Attempt To Gross Each Other Out I Would Suggest You Do Not Choose The Mothergrub As The Subject

CG: …SORRY. THAT WAS DISRESPECTFUL.

GA: Besides The Proper Term Is Womb

CG: REMIND ME TO NEVER LOOK THAT UP.

GA: That Might Be Wise Considering Your Delicate Sensibilities

CG: I AM AS UNDELICATE AS YOU ARE UNSENSIBLE.

GA: You Are Just Wiring It In At This Point

GA: As I Was Saying She Gestates The Combined Genetic Material For Varying Lengths Of Time Determined By The Overall Quality Of Contributions

CG: I LIKED THE PART OF THE CONVERSATION WHERE WE AGREED TO NOT “GROSS EACH OTHER OUT” WITH BIOLOGICAL DETAILS ABOUT THE MORE REVERED AND UNDULOUS SUBSPECIES WE ARE RELATED TO.

GA: Which Brings Me Back To My Point That The Only Reason Any Of Us Exist Is Our Willingness To Quote Unquote Bump Uglies

GA: Which Involves Learning How To Share Personal Space

GA: If Not Face To Face Then At Least Bulge To Bulge

GA: Did I Really Just Type That

CG: … FOR THE SAKE OF OUR COLLECTIVE SANITY, TELL ME THAT THAT WAS *NOT* YOU HITTING ON ME.

GA: You Misunderstand Me

GA: I Shall Leave Awkward Concupiscent Solicitations To Eridan Thank You Very Much

GA: I Just Wish To Let You Know That Trusting Someone Will Not Endanger You

GA: Necessarily

GA: You Still Need To Be At Least Somewhat Careful Of Course

CG: YOU ARE THE BEST AT COMFORTING. YOU ARE SHE.

CG: YOU ARE LIKEWISE THE BEST AT NOT COMING OFF AS A CREEPY PAIL-PANNED SUN-BATHER.

CG: LISTEN, I HAVE TO GO.

CG: MY LUSUS IS SCREECHING AT ME.

GA: Forgive Me For Being Interested In A Friends Circumstances

GA: Karkat Wait

CG: BYE

\--gailyAccessorized has lost connection with causticGlare--

 

Karkat unplugged the umbilical of the transmittoceiver from the solar battery to save the energy left for when he didn’t want to avoid meddlesome meddlefriends. Signing off with “my lusus is calling me” might have been the oldest avoidance technique in the book, but for once he was using it truthfully. Crabdad was screeching at the top of his lungs at a pitch even more pan ache-inducing than usual.

“For the LOVE of sanity, just shut up! I will give you a fishy treat or whatever you want if you’ll give me a moment of goddamn peace!” Karkat turned away from the transmittoceiver to glare at his lusus who had left his napping spot in the food preparation block to hiss and screech at the door with his neck frills raised in a threat display. Huh. That was not in his typical _I am a bored crab/go to bed/let’s spar/my thought-processes are that of a crab and I am just being strange_ variety of behaviors

Hesitating, Karkat snapped at him, “What is even wrong with you? There had better actually be something wrong, or I will strife that hiss right out of you!”

The hissing grew in volume and escalated until his dad was spitting in rage (gross) and leaped across the packed-dirt floor of the entryway to the front door of the hive. Butting his head up against the side of the heavy wooden crossbar on the door, the giant crab unlocked it and barreled outside. Before Karkat got over his shock at his dad’s sudden flurry of action, the door slammed closed.

Coming to his senses, he ran to the door, but the scraping and groaning of stone against wood he could hear through the door told him that his dad was blocking the entry with something. When Karkat pulled the unlocked door open he saw only the muddy face of the boulder that normally sat next to his concealed hive.

Kicking the rock (bad idea,) Karkat swore and gave up on that mode of exit, instead turning on his heel and stomped over to his respite block door, flinging it open and heading to his desk. He was _sick_ of Crabdad’s shit and his insistence on treating him like a helpless wiggler. If something was really dangerous out there, he was going to damn well help. And if there wasn’t, he was going to chew out his guardian because getting locked inside his hive was getting _old._

Of course, whenever his intermittent hive arrests had been lifted in the past, his lusus tended to drag back suspiciously white-skinned corpses for dinner. It was easier to pretend they weren’t the remains of someone’s lusus who had strayed too close to their territory, but Karkat had pretty much figured out that was what was going on. No one could accuse Karkat’s dad of being an unenthusiastic guardian, but FUCK that; he was so done with being coddled.

After the last time he had gotten locked in, he had gotten smart and widened the ventilation shaft for his respite block (it was really more of a hole straight up through the packed clay to the surface of the hill his hive was hidden under, but _ventilation shaft_ sounded more civilized.)

Breath quickening in something not entirely unlike excitement, or maybe fear, Karkat cleared his desk of his various water-damaged novels and grabbed the sickles from his desk drawer sticking them into the leather holsters on his belt before clambering on top of the flat surface. Ducking under the low ceiling, he curled his claws through the rusted mesh of the grate and yanked down on the iron frame, sending a small shower of dirt and leaves tumbling down as it scraped free.

In his haste to get up and out of his hive, the grate slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor with an unfortunate snapping sound. Oops. Whatever, Karkat had bigger worries than petty structural damage, so he let it be and grabbed the thicker roots sticking out of the shaft walls, hauling himself up by his arms.

It required a bit of squirming to properly orient himself in the dim, narrow shaft, but it was altogether only about three times as deep as he was tall, so he didn’t have much time to get claustrophobic. His small size also worked in his favor for once, since it gave him a good two inches on either side of his shoulders which helped maneuvering immensely. Not ideal, but doable. Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Karkat squinted his eyes and carefully crawled up the shaft, making sure to tug on each root above him before putting his full body weight on them, and curled his toes around the lower roots for balance as he progressed. He had meant to bring his leather sandals since he was going outside, but they would have just hindered him on this leg of his quest, so it was probably just as well that he was barefoot.

After a few slow, tense minutes of inching upwards, Karkat finally reached the top of the vent and unlatched the hook keeping the top grate closed. Upon pushing it up, another shower of dry leaves fell in his face (great, his room was going to be a mess down below.) Shaking his head free of debris, he peeked out to see that the forest floor was clear of intruders in his immediate vicinity, so he wriggled up and out of the vent to look for his lusus.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my beta LadyMurasaki for making this for making this possible and *especially* for her help with worldbuilding!


End file.
